Author: Randy Seaver

Randy Seaver is a veteran journalist who has been covering news and politics in the city of Biddeford, Maine for nearly three decades. He may be contacted at randy@randyseaver.com

Brother can you spare a dime?

~ Randy Seaver ~ Leave a comment

Laura and I are now facing the prospect of soon being homeless, and it’s all because of a terrorist group in the Middle East, a spilled bowl of water and the power of the internet.

Shortly after the tragic events of Sept.11, 2001, interest rates were slashed as a way to restore consumer confidence in a stumbling economy.

As a result of those slashed rates, the real estate market went absolutely crazy. Just about every homeowner I know, including me and Laura, refinanced their mortgages to capitalize on the lower rates. Meanwhile, property values in southern Maine skyrocketed.

Faithful readers of this column already know that Laura and I live in a relatively small home (with the emphasis placed on the word “small.”) Since we have two dogs, two cats, two rats, two aquariums, two children and two bedrooms, we knew from the day we met that we would soon need a bigger home.

But we were scared by the skyrocketing housing market. So we spent the first several months of our marriage on repairing our credit scores and fixing up our home to increase its value.

During the past two years, I’ve made more trips to Home Depot, Deering Lumber, Moody’s Nursery and Andy’s Agway than I want to talk about.

We first put up a storage shed and then spent several months and many precious weekends painting, tiling and shoveling. We worked our butts off, making our little bungalow more pleasing to the eye and comfortable to live in.

But then tragedy struck. While walking toward the washing machine late one night, I tripped over the dogs’ water dish, spilling the water all over the hardwood floors and soaking my socks. I thought I could make the trip without turning on the lights.

As I went to clean up the water, I leaned over to grab the mop (which is wedged behind the washing machine, which is wedged behind the dining room table) and stepped on a Bionical toy (which is relatively inexpensive, small, plastic and sharp as a razor.)

The pain made me scream, which is pretty normal in my house. No one stirred, not even the rats. I marched (actually limped) into our master bedroom, which measures three feet by six feet, and told my lovely wife that I was ready to snap.

Laura lifted her head from the pillow and said (with her eyes closed) “well then do something about it,” before immediately falling back into a deep slumber. I grabbed a flashlight and made my way toward the computer, which is wedged behind the kitchen sink (right next to the water heater).

I began using the internet to research interest rates, mortgage companies and real estate brokers. I got more e-mail messages in the next three days than you could shake a stick at, and our phone started ringing off the hook.

Within 72 hours, a smiling real estate agent was sitting in our living room (which measures 11 inches by 14 inches). He recommended a mortgage broker he knows and told us what he thought our home was worth. We smiled, too.

There were papers to sign and brochures to read. The whole process took 15 minutes. The broker stepped outside, grabbed a “For Sale” sign and tore up a small section of my beloved front lawn. That was last Wednesday (April 21) at approximately 7:30 p.m.

Within 17 hours, my cell phone chirped. It was my smiling broker. “We have an offer,” he said. “It’s for more than you wanted,” he added, spelling out the details.

Laura and I wanted to sell our home on a contingent basis, which would allow us adequate time to close on a new home. The buyer, apparently, did not want to wait. We had a decision to make. My father always said “a bird in the hand is worth a lot more than President Bush,” so we accepted the offer.

The real estate agent came back to our home that night with a much bigger smile than before. There was more paperwork and lots of questions about how many lead pencils we keep near the desk.

Suddenly, we were faced with a very big dilemma. We had barely started our search for a new home, and we now have less than six weeks to find one, have it inspected and move our 13 tons of belongings into it.

How do you spell stress?

We spent the weekend looking at homes. It’s not so bad, really. There are many affordable properties out there for people in our income range. It’s just that commuting from Caribou is going to mean I’ll be spending a lot more on gas and turnpike tolls.

Solid Waste /MERC

~ Randy Seaver ~ Leave a comment

The Maine Energy Recovery Company’s waste-to-energy incinerator in downtown Biddeford dominated the political landscape of the Biddeford-Saco region for nearly three decades.

The plant was designed by General Electric. It was initially considered as a preferred alternative for a region that was forced to close its municipal landfill. City leaders in both Biddeford and Saco fought to have the plant and its potential tax revenue located in their respective community.

Finally closed…the Maine Energy Recovery Company’s controversial waste-to-energy incinerator in the middle of downtown Biddeford.

But even before burning the first bag of trash, MERC became one of the city’s most contentious policy issues, and it ultimately had a profound impact on the city’s reputation and the region’s hopes for economic revitalization.

In 2004, while serving as the editor of the Biddeford-Saco-OOB Courier, I launched a project to explore every facet of MERC’s presence, including its history, operations and its role as part of Maine’s solid waste infrastructure.

The MERC: In Focus series featured no less than 19 weekly installments, including an in-depth look at Maine’s solid waste policies and the implications of a throw-away culture. Selected installment of that series can be viewed by clicking on the links below.

Additional news and commentary about the MERC facility can be found by using the Category tab.

How Did It Get Here? | MERC’s early history

A Deal Gone Bad | A Regional Public Policy Challenge

Vacationland or Trash-land? | How MERC impacts Maine’s solid waste landscape

MERC: How Did It Get Here?

~ Randy Seaver ~ 1 Comment

In the early 1990s, the city of Biddeford adopted a new motto. The slogan “A proud city rising where the water falls” was designed to highlight both the city’s history and its geographical significance. A logo attached to the motto features the Saco River’s cascading falls and a skyline peppered with architectural icons, including smokestacks and a church steeple.

But the 244-foot concrete tower that dominates the city’s skyline today is hardly something that the people in Biddeford are “proud” of.

Inescapable in both its magnitude and centerpiece location, that stack — which looms over the river’s banks — is a painful reminder that downtown Biddeford is also home to a troubled and controversial trash incinerator.

Many say that the presence of the Maine Energy Recovery Company in the heart of downtown Biddeford has — at the very least — hindered revitalization efforts in both Biddeford and Saco, MERC’s host communities.

Indeed, MERC’s downtown presence is hard to miss. Whether it’s odor complaints or the increasing frequency of trash trucks rattling along Lincoln Street, Biddeford especially has been forced to contend with the long-term effects of what has often been described as a questionable decision at best, prompting the Maine Sunday Telegram to describe the city as “Trashtown, USA” in an April 2000 feature story about the waste-to-energy plant.

Today, even company officials concede that the plant should not have been sited in the center of Biddeford and Saco’s downtown area.

Then how and why did it get there?

To answer those questions, one has to travel back in time to the early 1980s, when both cities were facing increasing pressure about their contaminated landfills. Some people have suggested a range of conspiracy theories, saying there was collusion between former city officials and company representatives.

Others say city officials moved too quickly on the proposal and did not do enough to seek public input. And still others blame the media for being asleep at the proverbial wheel, which fostered an atmosphere of apathy.

There is no evidence available to suggest a conspiracy, and it is much more likely that a long series of miscalculations by both city and company officials led to the decision to place MERC where it stands today.

A problem to solve

In 1982, the cities of Biddeford and Saco began advertising for a company to step in and handle the cities’ trash through incineration. Landfills were problematic and facing increased scrutiny from both state and federal officials. Four potential sites were initially considered after suggestions were offered by TEAC Associates, the cities’ paid consultants.

The four sites included Saco’s industrial park, located off North Street, Biddeford’s industrial park on Rte. 111, Saco Island (where the former NKL Tanning was located and is today a set of residential and business condominiums) and a Lincoln Street lot, near Elm Street in Biddeford where the plant sits today.

The site selection factors also contained a list of engineering and performance requirements.

  • Inexpensive cooling would require that the plant be built near a large source of water. A plan to sell excess steam would mean that it would also need to be located close to large businesses that would likely want to purchase large amounts of steam.
  • The plant also had to be near a Central Maine Power Company substation so that MERC’s other byproduct — electricity — could be transferred easily.
  • Most importantly, however, the land had to be available.

In the early 1980s, many people had all but given up on downtown Biddeford. The expansion of the Maine Mall in South Portland had shifted the retail trade, leaving downtown with a only a handful of small shops, city services and a complex of declining manufacturing operations. There were also plenty of “For Lease or Sale” signs.

Early in the site selection process, Biddeford and Saco were competing for the location, with both cities setting sights on the eventual property tax benefits.

As the process wore on, engineers concluded that potential steam customers (Southern Maine Medical Center in Biddeford and Saco Defense in Saco) near the two industrial parks would likely not need as much steam as the incinerator would produce.

Other factors, including the location of existing rail lines, the character of Biddeford’s downtown manufacturing culture and an available source of cheap steam for nearby aging mills that were facing increased global competition, all seemed to point to downtown Biddeford.

But Saco City Councilor Eric Cote, who was then his city’s mayor, later told reporters that he never felt obligated to any particular site, saying that neither city council ever voted to approve one site over another.

The consultants, reportedly, had the backing of both city councils and the six-member site selection committee, which included both mayors, economic development directors and city councilors.

In March 1983, Kuhr Technologies Incorporated (KTI) was picked to build the plant. KTI hired General Electric to design and build what was then considered a cutting-edge facility that could turn trash into electricity.

A complicated tax sharing formula was agreed upon that would give Biddeford the larger share of the company’s property taxes to offset increased costs.

Furthermore, the plant and its financial backers, including the Bank of Tokyo, relied upon Biddeford’s bond rating capacity. Saco, which had just gone through a tax cap and a default on prior bond obligations, was not considered financially stable enough by the company and its lenders.

Within 30 days of selecting a site for the plant, NKL Tanning went out of business and its building was later transformed into residential and commercial condominiums. The host communities later agreed to increase the size of the plant and its capacity (from 100 to 700 tons per day) in order to benefit from what were then the lowest tipping fees on record, roughly $4 per ton of waste handled.

Several months later, in the summer of 1984, Plato Truman, a perennial political candidate and activist, began circulating a petition that called for a citywide referendum on the plant’s location. Truman owned a food wholesaling company that was located near the proposed incinerator.

Although Truman collected more than 800 signatures, nothing happened when he presented them to former Biddeford Mayor Robert Farley during a city council meeting.

Farley reportedly tossed the signatures into a trash can. In subsequent interviews with reporters from both the Journal Tribune and the Courier, Farley said the petition signatures were essentially worthless because the city had already signed contracts with the company.

KTI had reportedly invested millions of dollars in site preparation work and Farley expressed concerns about possible lawsuits if the city tried to pull out of the deal.

Company officials from both KTI and General Electric assured city officials that the new plant would be a “state-of-the-art” facility that would not produce odor or noise.

In December 1984, the Biddeford Planning Board rejected MERC’s proposed 244-foot ventilation stack because it exceeded height restrictions. Within days, the Biddeford City Council voted to override that decision.

Immediate problems

The Maine Energy plant first fired up its boilers during a shakedown cruise of sorts in April 1987, according to Saco Mayor Mark Johnston. Five months later, in September, the company began accepting trash from its member communities.

In less than 30 days, however, something went dramatically wrong, and large plumes of ash sporadically spewed forth from the giant stack that was emblazoned with large black letters, MERC.

That ash prompted Joanne Twomey, a former Biddeford city councilor and current state representative, into action.

Twomey began collecting ash samples and demanded that those samples be analyzed by state environmental officials. Her requests fell upon deaf ears at Biddeford City Hall. But two years before he was elected as Saco’s mayor, Johnston joined forces with Twomey and the two convinced the Saco City Council to pay for the analysis, which eventually brought a large fine against the company.

“The cities never got a dime of that money,” Johnston said. “But it was significant because it was the first proof we had that something was wrong over there.”

In previous interviews with the Courier, Twomey said she never thought twice about opposing the plant’s operations and location.

“There were many, many people opposed to MERC,” she said. “But you have to remember that it wasn’t popular to speak out back then, people looked at us like we were crazy. But that’s not mother’s milk they’re making in there.”

Richard Rhames, another well-known political activist in Biddeford, said in previous interviews that his opposition to the plant started later because he was burned out from opposing the city’s plan to expand its airport in the mid-1980s.

Rhames said he joined forces with MERC critics in the latter part of the 1980s, once the plant was operating and the Maine Peoples Alliance had organized a chapter in Biddeford to focus on the plant and its potentially harmful emissions.

“Back then, my son was a student at St. Mary’s, and I would drive across the bridge on Elm Street and see plumes of black smoke coming out of that stack,” Rhames said. “Today, the smoke is white, but it still has the same stuff in it.”

Rhames said he and others organized around health concerns related to the facility. “There was virtually no interest in the problems with MERC from the political class back then,” Rhames said. “It was very frustrating in those days. We were labeled as emotional and hysterical people. The company and business community used the entire lexicon of vernacular in dismissing our concerns. They said the plant was state-of-the-art.”

Financial woes

But if environmental concerns didn’t catch political leaders’ attention back then, financial problems certainly did. KTI fired General Electric and faulted the company with its plant design problems.

In 1989, Johnston was first elected as Saco’s mayor. Within days of taking office, Johnston convinced his city council to take legal action against KTI. The city filed suit because the company was automatically increasing the city’s tipping fees. Johnston says he was also worried about health problems, even after the ash spills stopped happening.

An out-of-court settlement resulted in General Electric willing to pay the two cities $1.6 million; KTI agreed to pay $4 million, Johnston said.

Saco immediately began seeking waste disposal alternatives, including facilities in Presque Isle, Bethlehem, N.H. and Regional Waste Systems in Portland, another trash incinerator.

The result, Johnston said, was painful and not economically viable. Any other option would cost the city a minimum of $100 per ton for disposal. At about the same time, KTI officials approached Johnston and Biddeford Mayor Bonita (Belanger) Pothier.

‘Dealing with the devil’

The company was facing financial woes and was seeking bankruptcy protection, Johnston said. Furthermore, KTI hired a Washington, D.C.-based attorney to determine if it could get out of its then three-year contract with its member communities.

“It was not an easy negotiation,” Johnston said. “But we had no real alternatives back then. I held my nose and made a deal with the devil. A lot of people accuse me of being the father of MERC, but there was no wiggle room. We soon learned they were not bluffing.”

In 1990, Johnston and Pothier entered into negotiations with KTI. The result was a 17-year extension of the existing three-year contract and an agreement for the cities to pay a significantly increased set of tipping fees.

In exchange, KTI offered the two cities a clause that would entitle them to a 20 percent share of the company if it were ever sold. Furthermore, the company was obligated to report any changes in its financial status and agreed to make investments in its operation to minimize noise and odor complaints.

For the next five years, Johnston said, the cities and the company enjoyed a “honeymoon.” The company even agreed to Johnston’s request to remove its acronym from the stack.

“Most communities have a water tower that reads ‘welcome to so and so,” Johnston said. “In my city, we had a stack that read MERC. It costs them a lot to sand-blast it off. I thought that was a good gesture and something they should do to acknowledge us and our concerns.”

But in June 1997, Ted Hill, then KTI’s president, called the mayors of Biddeford and Saco, James Grattelo and Mark Johnston, in for a meeting.

The honeymoon was over, and some bigger battles were brewing on the horizon.

Second-hand parents

~ Randy Seaver ~ Leave a comment

State Rep. Marie Laverriere Boucher (D-Biddeford) is living in La-La Land, where every little girl has a pink pony and giant-screen televisions repeatedly show episodes of Little House on the Prairie.

Let’s give the Biddeford City Council a rest this week, and turn our attention instead to all those wacky legislators we love to hate. What is going on in Augusta? And what has Laverriere-Boucher been smoking?

Marie has introduced a bill that would prohibit foster parents from smoking in their homes or cars because they would be exposing children to the dangers of second-hand smoke.

For the record, I am smoking while writing this column.

Marie’s bill, while chock-full of good intentions, is completely impractical and the likely passage of such a law raises serious concerns about enforcement and the state’s pathetic lack of foster parents.

For the record, I am married to a child protective caseworker for the Maine Department of Human Services.

Perhaps Marie has been too busy with the state’s projected $1.2 billion budget deficit (that’s right, I said $1.2 billion) to watch the PBS Frontline series about Maine’s DHS system. In episode two of that three-part series, viewers watched a day in the life of various caseworkers from the Bangor DHS office. One portion of that episode showed three caseworkers spending their entire day desperately trying to find a foster family for two little girls (sisters) who had been removed from their home.

For the record, Laura and I had a big argument while watching the above-mentioned television show.

Let’s be honest. Smoking is not a smart thing to do. Also, scientific studies have clearly shown the dangers of second-hand cigarette smoke. Should foster parents smoke? Absolutely not. But here’s a better question: should any child be in a foster home? In an ideal world like La-La Land, foster homes would not be needed.

Scientific studies have also shown that eating red meat is bad for you; so is exposure to sunshine. How many children have died in automobile accidents? Sugar causes gum decay and television warps their minds. I guess, under ideal circumstances, parents would be perfect without flaws or bad habits.

But before you jump on me about smoking, know this: I stepped in to help raise two boys who were — for all intents and purposes — abandoned by their father. When I do smoke, I do so in the enclosed front porch of our home, which has been converted into 50 percent office space, 50 percent dining area and the other 50 percent laundry room.

For the record, we have a small house.

I like to refer to this space as the West Wing of our home, even though it faces the northeast side of our property.

Am I a bad step-father because I smoke? Maybe. But I also coached their Little League team (no, I did not smoke anywhere near the fields.) I work with Tim and Matt on their homework and then read to them each night before their mother comes in for cuddles. I’ve taught Tim (age 7) how to play chess.

I pack the boys’ lunches each day and help them get dressed in the morning while their mother gets ready for work. I took a day off from work last week to take Tim to the doctor’s office. I do my best to teach them right from wrong and about basic values and responsibilities. I tell them both each day that I love them, and that I am proud of them. I take an active interest in their school activities and even chaperoned a field trip last year.

Am I the perfect parent? Absolutely not. But for these two boys who never had a father, they seem to think that I am. And what’s more important than that?

The pool of available foster parents in Maine is dangerously shallow; let’s not make it harder for people like Marie and her husband, Dan, who are now willing to open up their own homes in order to help a child who needs it.

Unfortunately, the vast majority of us do not live in La-La Land. Maybe that’s something Marie should think about before becoming so self-righteous on the House floor.

Tweedle dee and tweedle thumb

~ Randy Seaver ~ Leave a comment

Earlier this month, my youngest stepson, Matthew, nearly cut off his left thumb. In the greater scheme of things, this might not seem like relevant news.

After all, what does a six-year-old boy’s thumb have to do with the earth-shaking events now going on in Biddeford, Saco and Old Orchard Beach?

Voters will not decide in November whether Matthew should see a plastic surgeon. The stitches will be removed long before public access television returns to Biddeford’s airwaves. And — most importantly — Matthew’s thumb will have no effect on the special town council election in Old Orchard Beach.

But Matthew’s accident —and that is exactly what it was — does serve as a prime example of our collective problem. It is one small fraction of our society’s biggest flaw: the fundamental failure to value personal responsibility.

There are a few reasons why I waited a few weeks before writing this particular column.

 First, my team of high-powered attorneys has been poring over Matthew’s case file, searching for liable parties.

 So far, it would seem, there are at least 438 people responsible for Matthew’s injuries.

The trick now is to determine which of those parties has the deepest pockets. Those are the people we want to face in court.

Since Matthew was injured at school, the town of Old Orchard Beach automatically becomes Defendant Number One. After all, if the town was willing to pay off its tax assessor, why shouldn’t Laura and I go after a little of the green?

 And if one of our town councilors (wife of the aforementioned tax assessor) can cost the town more than $3,000 for a special election simply because she got her nose out of joint, then I should be able to get at least three times that much.

 And then, there is the state of Maine. If Maine didn’t require children to go to school in the first place, Matthew would never have stuck his thumb in the door. Next, let’s find out who made that door.

 Why was the door not child-proof? Add another litigant to the equation. As for the little boy who accidentally slammed the door shut, we’ve checked out his bank account. Excluding that $10 check he got for his birthday last week, his only other asset is a vintage ‘Tickle-Me-Elmo’ toy. That toy could fetch a handsome sum on e-Bay.

 Okay, add that kid to the list of defendants in my growing lawsuit — not to mention the architects who designed the school, the school nurse and every member of the school board.

You will notice, however, that I have excluded Matthew from the list of those who are responsible for his accident. And that — although perfectly acceptable in today’s world of self-serving justice — is just plain wrong.

There is only one reason why Matthew was injured:  he was not doing what he was supposed to be doing.

He stuck his thumb in the door jamb, and then —without warning — another kid came through the door and slammed it shut. It is, despite all my ranting and raving, an open and shut case of pure stupidity.

Ouch.

To this day, Matthew is still unable to explain why he opted to stick his thumb into the jamb of a perfectly good door. He does know, however, that he will never do it again. And that, I suppose, is as much as I can expect from a six-year-old boy.

The thing that annoyed me most took place after I hustled Matthew into the emergency room at Southern Maine Medical Center. While going through the ER paperwork, a clerk asked me if we were planning to hold the school liable for the injury.

I know the hospital clerk was just doing her job, but this is exactly why affordable health-care is about as realistic as the tooth fairy in this country. Everybody wants to sue somebody else.

So many people did so many great things on that day. So let me wrap up this week’s column by thanking some of the people who reminded me of the basic goodness that is in all of us when faced with a crisis.

First, Sherry Couture, the Courier’s business manager, didn’t hesitate when I ran out the front-door of our office to go get Matthew. She knew that someone would have to ride with him in the back seat and hold his bleeding hand.

 Sherry missed her lunch break that day because of something I needed. She was great to Matthew, even though he was hysterically screaming all the way to the hospital.

Secondly, Jan Clark, the school nurse at Jameson Elementary School, deserves major kudos for handling the situation like a true professional. She also called our home later in the day to check on Matthew and left her home phone number. Principal Mike Pulsifer helped put Matthew in my Jeep, and Jackie O’Neill, the school secretary, coordinated the entire effort with amazing professionalism.

Some Biddeford firefighters were at the hospital when I arrived. They immediately jumped up and led us through the emergency room, making sure that Matthew knew he was now in good hands. Although I recognized Firefighters Bill Langevin and David Dutremble, a younger paramedic, whose name I didn’t get, stayed with Matthew until the triage nurse could see him.

The staff at Southern Maine Medical Center was outstanding, as was the 911 dispatcher I called on my cell phone while driving 110 mph on the turnpike.

 Make no mistake, it was a tense day, but I can’t help feeling really lucky to know that we are surrounded by such true professionals and decent people. I think that I’ll fire my lawyers and instead remember why I choose to live in southern Maine. Maybe that sign is right, after all. The way life should be.

Matthew was scheduled to have his stitches removed on Tuesday. His thumb works just fine. It will be ugly for a while, but he will not need a plastic surgeon. So all is well. And we can leave the door open for whatever happens next.

The Trouble with Cinderella

~ Randy Seaver ~ Leave a comment

I didn’t find out about Artie Shaw’s death until four days after it happened. Artie died on Dec. 31, and I learned the news when last week’s issue of Newsweek arrived at my house.

Given all that is happening in the world, the death of a long ago band leader may seem insignificant and somewhat irrelevant, especially for those of us who were born long after Mr. Shaw put his clarinet up on a shelf and walked away from the fame and fortune that society heaped upon him during the 1930s and ‘40s.

But since this is my column and because I shared a special connection with Mr. Shaw, I decided this week to use his life story as a metaphor for the debates that are shaping our public policy today.

Like me, Artie played the clarinet. Unlike me, he was damn good at it. But he was also a prolific writer and became – despite his best efforts to be a recluse — a champion of America’s civil rights movement.

Born in 1910, Arthur Arshawsky eventually changed his last name in order to evade the anti-Semitism that hid just beneath the surface of his Connecticut hometown. He was born to working-class parents, but his musical talents made him bigger than life. Despite all his successes, however, he flatly refused to become part of the glamour-set that was emerging in Hollywood.

In his auto-biography, The Trouble with Cinderella, Shaw recalls a party he attended in which J. Paul Getty was also a guest. Getty, I suppose, could be compared to today’s Donald Trump because of his penchant for media attention and massive wealth.

During the party, Shaw approached Getty and asked the celebrity multi-millionaire a simple question. Have you ever wanted anything that you couldn’t get? Getty thought about it for a moment, and then smugly replied, “No, I suppose there hasn’t been anything I couldn’t get.”

Shaw shook his head and said, “I find that very sad.”

Perplexed, Getty asked the famous bandleader why the idea of untold wealth made him sad. “Because you have never experienced what everyone else has,” Shaw replied before turning and walking away.

It’s just one of many examples of how Artie Shaw bucked society’s trends. But perhaps his biggest accomplishment came when he courageously defied the accepted racial practices of the entertainment industry by refusing to sequester his African-American band members during performances in the south.

He was also the first white musician of any significance to allow an unknown jazz singer to accompany him on stage. Billie Holiday was at that time an unknown, but Artie allowed her to sing with his band in New York City.

Eventually, Shaw — who was married to such celebrities as Ava Gardner and Lana Turner — found himself before Sen. Joseph McCarthy’s subcommittee that was intended to root out Communists and other so-called “Un-Americans”

Disgusted with his homeland, Shaw ditched the United States and moved to Spain, where he spent several years studying fishing. He eventually returned to America but avoided the public limelight for the remainder of his life.

So what does all this have to do with today? Well, coincidentally, I am now reading What’s The Matter With Kansas? How Conservatives Won The Heart of America by Thomas Frank. It is a fascinating book that details how Republicans won over the so-called red states that until very recently favored Democrats.

In a nutshell, Frank theorizes that many Midwestern voters switched their political affiliations primarily because of their religious beliefs, despite the conservatives’ consistent push for deregulation and privatization, which have hurt the red states more so than other parts of the country.

I say all this because otherwise sensible and decent people get all bent out of shape when discussing homosexuality and the concept of same-sex marriages. Pundits tell us it was one of the driving forces behind Bush’s most recent success.

As a happily married heterosexual, I cannot — for the life of me — figure out how the concept of two people loving one another in any way threatens the sanctity of my marriage. Why does it matter? Doesn’t the institution of marriage face bigger threats from Brad Pitt, Britney Spears and the plethora of reality TV shows that dominate our landscape?

Despite all his shortcomings, including repeated bouts of major depression, Artie Shaw had the guts and wisdom to speak out against what he saw as fundamentally wrong with society long before it was politically correct to do so.

God knows I hate the politically correct mantra, but I have a much deeper disdain for any form of discrimination that threatens the God-given dignity bestowed upon all human beings. Period.

Automatic For the People

~ Randy Seaver ~ Leave a comment

There’s just something about Old Orchard Beach. I don’t know what it is exactly, but ever since I moved here two years ago, I get a strange feeling every time I use my microwave oven.

Convinced that the Central Intelligence Agency has been beaming harmful, mind-controlling, ultra-sonic rays into my home, I spent this last weekend covering all of my windows with aluminum foil.

The aluminum foil, although expensive when purchased in square-yard sheets, has proven worthy of my investment. Not only have I outsmarted the spooks at Langley, I have also noticed a considerable savings in my home heating costs.

But I’m not the only one who is on to the conspiracy. And it would appear that the CIA is not alone in its subversive operations here in the sleepy, little town that is best-known for its French fries, thong bikinis and over-zealous meter maids.

Last week, Town Councilor Carmen Cook announced that she was “taking back her life” by resigning from the council. “You go, girl,” I exclaimed while reading her memo. “Good for you. Power to the people, Ms. Cook!”

According to Cook’s Jan. 20 memo to the town, she has been followed by the police from the time she was elected to the council in November 2002.

And although Cook has often questioned why the town has so many police officers and patrol cars, the boys in blue are apparently still short-handed because — as Cook alleges — a private detective was hired to pick up the slack.

Later in her memo, Cook states that she is “embarrassed” to be a part of Old Orchard Beach. So are we, Carmen. So are we.

Cook was elected to the council with an axe that needed serious grinding. Her latest resignation (she resigned previously in June) is — although predictable — nothing short of silly, childish and selfish.

In essence, when Carmen Cook can’t have things her way, it’s the highway. And that became especially relevant in June, when the five-member council voted 4-0 not to pay a special stipend to the town’s assessor — whom just happens to be Cook’s husband.

The town’s charter prohibits any town councilor from voting on an issue that involves their spouse’s employment with the town. While Peter Cook (not the most pleasant or polite individual I’ve ever run across) was given a $5,000 stipend by the council last year, this year’s council decided he didn’t need extra money, especially since the town opted to pay an outside firm $110,000 to perform outside valuations of all homes.

Peter Cook convinced the prior council that the outside valuations added extra work to his plate, interfering with the time he reserved for being especially rude toward bald newspaper editors.

The new council, which features at least two bald members, didn’t take the bait, however.

Many of the town’s employees got a four percent pay raise this year, but not Peter Cook.

Again, that darned charter prohibits pay raises for any employee whom has a relative serving on the council. So, Peter Cook got diddly squat and his wife huffed and puffed.

It was Carmen Cook’s idea to have “comment cards” placed in the town hall lobby. It was a good idea, designed to increase and enhance customer service. Maybe I should have filled out one of those cards when Cook’s husband flipped me the bird last year.

Often the lone voice of dissension on a council that is becoming increasingly responsible, efficient and civilized, Carmen Cook has accused other councilors of keeping her out of the loop. She has been openly hostile toward those she has disagreed with, and apparently believes that everyone is out to get her. Sound familiar?

Peter and Carmen Cook have not had an easy life. But despite whatever personal tragedies they have survived, there is no excuse for being rude or obnoxious toward others simply because of disagreements regarding public policy.

When my kid sister was still quite young, she had a pet phrase that she used whenever she stopped to think about one of her decisions. “I chain-changed my mind,” she would blubber while fiercely clutching her “kitty-kat” blanket.

Let’s just hope that Carmen doesn’t “chain-change” her mind about her resignation. She can have her life back (whatever that means) and the rest of us can focus on the important work that lies ahead for the town.

Carmen may, however, have a valid point about the town’s police department. Just last week, I noticed a police cruiser following me on Saco Avenue. Two days later, two guys from the public works department came to my house with a big truck and took away my trash without asking me if they could have it.

The insanity has got to stop. I want my life back, too. Maybe the aluminum foil will help.

Deal Gone Bad

~ Randy Seaver ~ 1 Comment

Four years ago, the owners of the Maine Energy Recovery Company told city officials they would never consider relocating their trash incinerator facility out of downtown Biddeford.

Within the last two years, that message has drastically changed.

The turnaround is likely the result of continuing closed-door negotiations between company officials and city officials from both Biddeford and Saco, not to mention increasing public opposition to both the plant’s location and operation.

The negotiations began roughly two years ago, shortly after both cities filed separate lawsuits against the company. Both sides are reportedly hoping to avoid excessive legal expenses and an unpredictable court decision. The case is still pending in York County Superior Court.

The cities’ civil lawsuits stem from the 1999 acquisition of Maine Energy by Casella Waste Systems, one of the country’s largest waste handling companies, headquartered in Rutland Vermont.

This week, we will continue to examine the history of events that led us to where we are today in relation to the controversial trash-to-energy company.

After renegotiating a new contract with its so-called host communities of Biddeford and Saco, MERC’s parent company agreed to remove its namesake acronym from the plant’s main, 244-foot ventilation stack.

From there, tensions between the company and its host communities cooled considerably. The 1990 lawsuit filed by Saco was settled out of court. The company’s stack no longer billowed plumes of ash. The next five years were described as a “honeymoon.”

But in June 1997, Ted Hill, then president of KTI (MERC’s parent company), called the mayors of Biddeford and Saco into his office for a meeting.

Biddeford Mayor James Grattelo and Saco Mayor Mark Johnston were both completing their final terms as their city’s respective mayor.

“We got to Ted’s office on Saco Island, and he told us he had good news,” Johnston recalled. “He said Central Maine Power Company opted to buy out the remainder of their power purchase agreement. Suddenly, the company had a lot of cash.”

Under the terms of MERC’s new and extended contract with the two cities, the company was required to immediately notify municipal officials of any changes to its financial or operational status.

The cities wanted MERC to use their new-found wealth (roughly $90 million) to improve the plant, especially its odor problems. The cities also wanted their tipping fees reduced. The company agreed to the former request but balked at the latter, arguing that they were under no obligation to lower tipping fees.

But when the company revamped its internal air handling systems, it was fined by the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA). As time wore on, Johnston said, the company continuously increased the amount of trash it accepted to fuel its boilers.

Johnston said the renegotiated contract prohibits the company from accepting anything more than 212,000 tons of trash. Today, he estimates, the company processes in excess of 312,000 tons of trash each year.

In order to comply with the OSHA ruling, the company kept exterior doorways opened to improve inside air quality. The result was a significant increase in odor complaints that led to mounting citizen frustration and eventual political polarization.

Once considered to be too cozy with municipal officials, the company was now facing increasing pressure from its host communities to clean up its act or — better yet — get out of town. A new tone of getting tough on the company emerged from both city halls.

By the summer of 1998, a series of explosions in the company’s main shredder, coupled with increasing odor complaints, morphed into a fever pitch of resentment that was aimed directly at MERC. The troubled company also became the focal point of several political hopefuls as they planned their upcoming municipal election campaigns.

In December 1998, the Biddeford City Council drew first blood in what eventually became an all-out effort to shut down the company. A new ordinance was passed that levied significant fines for any calls the city’s fire department was forced to respond to at the incinerator.

In the summer of 1999, Jim Boldebook, the owner of an advertising agency best known for its Jolly John radio ads, launched a new website called stoptheodor.com

A focus for political leaders

With the November 1999 municipal elections looming, anti-MERC statements and positions seemed to be a favorable position for several candidates who formed an alliance devoted to “getting tough” on MERC.

A series of newspaper advertisements, labeled “This Stinks,” featured the names and photographs of political hopefuls from both Biddeford and Saco, including State Rep. Stephen Beaudette (D-Biddeford), who was then the Biddeford City Council president and a mayoral hopeful. Saco City Councilors Leslie Smith and Arthur Tardif were also featured in the ads, along with Johnston who was then attempting a political comeback by vying for a city council seat in Saco.

The ads, paid for by Johnston, contained information about MERC’s operations, encouraging readers to elect candidates who would take a hard stand against the company.

Saco and Biddeford both had new mayors. Both Bill Johnson and Donna Dion were hoping for a second term. Although they were not as publicly vocal in their criticisms of the company, they each pledged to keep a close eye on the company and its operations.

But company officials were not about to lie down and play dead.

“These advertisements are examples of guerilla warfare,” said Ted Hill, KTI’s president, in an October 1999 interview with the Courier. “These ads don’t look at the broader picture.”

And Samuel Zaitlin, a former Saco mayor who was then a KTI vice president, criticized the ads and candidates for telling “half-truths” and “distorting facts.”

“If you repeat a story long enough, and if you make unsubstantiated claims loud enough — it becomes very easy to play into the hands of certain cynicism,” Zaitlin said. “What many of these people don’t realize is that if they are elected, they will have to begin a reasoned and civilized process in order to seek reasonable solutions.”

Was it a sale?

But political pressure on the company continued, bolstered in part by the Dec. 15, 1999 announcement that MERC and its parent company were being acquired by Casella Waste Systems of Vermont.

As part of the 1991 contract, the cities included a clause that would entitle them to 20 percent of the plant’s value if it were sold. The cities claimed the merger represented a sale. The company countered by saying it was an acquisition, not a sale.

A bitter legal battle was on the horizon, and the two cities opted to take sharply different approaches. Meanwhile, MERC’s new owners pledged to “overwhelm and eliminate” the plant’s odor problems.

Saco officials, led by then Mayor Bill Johnson, began meeting with company officials behind closed doors in order to hammer out a new agreement that would give the city significantly lower tipping fees and address potential health concerns. The city also began exploring increased recycling options, such as its automated waste collection system that was eventually launched in Jan. 2003.

Biddeford officials, on the other hand, began reviewing legal strategies and eventually struck back at their neighbors across the river by re-routing all departing trash trucks from the company through Saco in April 2000.

Both Grattelo and Johnston had returned to elected office as city councilors in their respective communities and each called for keeping constant pressure on the company.

New owners come to town

Shortly after his company acquired the Maine Energy Recovery Co., John Casella, president and founder of Casella Waste Systems, sat down with city councilors and the mayors from Biddeford and Saco during a joint-council workshop meeting in Jan. 2000.

During that meeting, Casella and other company officials told local leaders that their company was anxious to become good corporate citizens. They promised to “overwhelm” continuing odor problems at the downtown Biddeford trash incinerator. They said they wanted to be part of the community’s long range planning by providing “innovative leadership” in the areas of recycling and solid waste removal.

But they also said that Maine Energy was here to stay, and that they had no intentions of shutting the plant down.

The public meeting, held at the McArthur Library, was intended to allow each side to “size-up” the other. It was a sometimes tense discussion that was attended by more than 100 concerned residents and business owners, including a group of men and women who were then working behind the scenes to form a new environmental watchdog organization.

A new voice of opposition

A significant shift was taking place in public opposition to the plant.

In February 2000, less than 30 days after Casella met with local leaders, the formation of Twin Cities Renaissance, a non-profit, environmental watchdog group, was announced. Unlike previous plant critics, the new group promised to work in a “reasonable manner” through a series of “pragmatic steps” to eventually relocate or close the company.

“It’s time to stop complaining,” said Mark Robinson, on of TCR’s founding members. “It’s time to do something.”

That “something” was outlined in TCR’s three-pronged mission statement, which includes ensuring that the company fulfills all of its contractual, regulatory and legal obligations; to encourage independent research that quantifies the economic, social and health impacts of the facility; and to explore alternative methods of waste disposal that includes a possible relocation of the plant.

“Solid waste disposal is an infrastructure challenge that confronts every city,” Robinson said as he explained his group’s mission statement during a press conference. “Biddeford and Saco have the unique and additional burden, however, of frequently suffering the pungent stench of garbage in the very heart of our downtown districts.”

Members of TCR, including bank presidents, environmentalists, health care providers and teachers, said their approach would stay clear of personality issues and instead focus upon any possible solutions to the overall problem.

Two different approaches

During the next year, even as Saco officials continued negotiating with the company, Biddeford officials began deliberating the passage of a new ordinance that would provide more stringent air emission standards than what were then required by either state or federal agencies.

But Biddeford’s proposed air toxics ordinance soon proved to be controversial. Other manufacturing firms raised concerns about the new standards, questioning whether the ordinance would be either effective or realistic.

In March 2002, the city of Saco was poised to renew an independent contract with the company. Then, after TCR rallied more than 150 residents to show up at City Hall and protest the move, the city council reversed its position, instead opting to follow Biddeford’s course and file a lawsuit against the company’s Vermont-based owners.

How much is it worth?

The central component of the pending lawsuits that were filed by both Biddeford and Saco involves the plant’s market value, which is still being disputed.    

While the towns believe the plant could be worth as much as $74 million, the company said last year that those estimates were grossly inaccurate. Citing diminishing electric power sales, company officials said the plant is worth somewhere in the neighborhood of $22 million.

Although existing contracts allow the company to charge roughly 7 cents for each kilowatt hour of electricity it produces from burning trash, the current market price for surplus electricity is much lower — roughly 3.5 cents per kilowatt hour.

A settlement option

Facing mounting legal costs and the prospect of losing a low-cost source of trash disposal in 2007, when the municipal contracts expire, several of the charter towns that also use Maine Energy for the disposal of their municipal solid waste opted to settle their own collective lawsuit against the company earlier this year.

In exchange, the Tri-County collaborative, which includes the towns of Old Orchard Beach, Arundel, Kennebunk and Dayton, received a new and simpler contract, which provides significant savings in tipping fees for its 19 member communities.

“I would describe this as a big win for all the communities,” said Barry Tibbets, Kennebunk’s town manager, during an interview with the Courier last year.

The settlement followed upon the heels of a September 2002 announcement by company officials that they would be “willing to explore all options on the table within the parameters of a logical and reasonable discussion focused upon long-range solutions.”

But Biddeford officials, especially, seemed unfazed by the company’s gesture, saying the reversal is simply the result of their refusal to negotiate an out-of-court settlement.

Company officials, however, say they have not completely changed their position.

“If you stop and think about it, our position has never changed,” said James Bohlig, senior vice president of Casella Waste, during a March 2003 interview. “We were asked if we would be willing to just pack up and go home — and that answer would still be no. On the other hand, are we willing to explore all options for a win-win solution? The answer to that question has always been yes.”

Unwilling to settle

But the mayors of both Biddeford and Saco seemed to bristle when asked if they would consider settling their differences with MERC outside of the courtroom. Donna Dion, then Biddeford’s mayor, and Bill Johnson, Saco’s mayor, pointed to Zaitlin as a point of contention in the summer of 2002.

Zaitlin left the company in April 2000 in order to pursue a master’s degree at Harvard’s John F. Kennedy School of Government. He was hired as a consultant by Casella in 2002 and charged with assisting the company with its ongoing negotiations with MERC’s host communities.

In previous interviews, Zaitlin said he has been meeting on a regular basis since the summer of 2002 with TCR representatives. It was at about the same time as state officials began to take serious notice of TCR’s efforts to relocate the plant.

“The only way to address very complicated issues is through a rational dialogue in which both parties feel that they can be heard and involved,” Zaitlin told the Courier in Sept. 2002. “Regardless of what happens with the lawsuits, these issues are simply not going to disappear. We have to think about the long-term, and we must frame those discussions

in a thoughtful, hard look at the entire range of solid waste issues.”

But both Dion and Johnson questioned Zaitlin’s motives, citing his close friendship with then outgoing Gov. Angus King and his past employment with the company after serving as head of the Maine Bureau of Environmental Protection.

Dion and Johnson also rejected an offer by King to help negotiate a settlement, saying the process would likely extend well beyond the remainder of the governor’s term, which was set to expire in January 2003.

TCR officials expressed disappointment about the mayors’ decisions but said they would continue their work.

Changing dynamics

In November 2003, Johnston returned to the mayor’s post in Saco and Gen. Wallace Nutting, a retired U.S. Army General, upset two better known opponents in Biddeford’s mayoral race. Zaitlin urged Nutting to seek the office, saying the city needed a “rational” leader who could deal reasonably with MERC.

TCR members, meanwhile, struggled with competing public policy issues that overshadowed the MERC debate, including a proposal to develop a large-scale casino in Biddeford and then a so-called “racino” in Saco.

But during the last few months, TCR is again raising its voice and closely watching the ongoing MERC negotiations that now include the city of Biddeford. Recently, the group has called upon MERC to change the way odor violations are investigated and raised concerns about explosions of disposed propane tanks in the company’s shredder.

Despite their willingness to be rational and to steer clear of personality issues, members of TCR also maintain that they want the company to be held accountable for all of its obligations.

“I know that when the company speaks of relocation, it intends that it will be paid $100 million or so,” said Rick Hull, a Biddeford attorney and TCR member in a previous interview with the Courier last year. “For my part, I believe that if all relevant environmental standards are strictly applied, the company would be shut down for compliance failures.”

What does the future hold?

But the company’s possible closure or relocation remains questionable, despite reports that a state-owned landfill in Old Town would be willing to accept local municipal solid waste.

MERC is still Biddeford’s largest taxpayer, and the city’s other top two commercial taxpayers (Interstate Brands Corp., which owns the Nissen Baking plant; and West Point Stevens) have both reported financial problems. Furthermore, public opposition to the Old Town landfill seems to be increasing.

“There are a number of things for both cities to consider as we move down the road,” Zaitlin said. “The existing contracts will expire in 2007. The market rate for solid waste disposal is constantly on the increase. And the cities will have to go to the market, and even if they can find another option, they have to consider a number of other variables such as transportation costs and the building of a transfer facility.”

Today, the negotiations continue and the pending lawsuit awaits. Meanwhile, many people continue to wonder whether the MERC plant will ever go away or if it will continue to be a fixture in the heart of both host communities.

Save The Fish or the Fishermen?

~ Randy Seaver ~ 1 Comment

Peter Innis, a commercial fisherman from Portland, described the National Marine Fisheries Service as “terrorists,” who are out to destroy Maine’s ground-fishing fleet.

During a public hearing Thursday on proposals that are now being considered for the implementation of stricter fishing rules in the Gulf of Maine, Innis compared the federal agency to the al-Qaeda terrorists’ network, saying the agency’s interpretation of the Sustainable Fisheries Act is as misguided as a terrorist’s interpretation of the Quran.

“There’s no common ground with terrorists,” Innis told members of the New England Fisheries Management Council (NEFMC) as dozens of fishermen applauded his comments. “This is a good law, but there are some who are reading and interpreting this as a way to destroy you. There is a certain sector of people who are reading the law only to support their own agenda.”

Thursday’s meeting in Portland was the fourth in a series of public hearings on four proposals that the council is now considering for the implementation of Amendment 13, an addendum to the Sustainable Fisheries Act.

Read the complete article as a PDF file

Hey, let’s go camping!

~ Randy Seaver ~ Leave a comment

(Originally published July 2003)

It was supposed to be a relaxing weekend of camping. I should know better than to include the word “relaxing” when talking about a camping trip with the kids and Laura, who — by the way — requires a minimum of 47 hours of sleep between Friday and Sunday.

This camping trip was a spur-of-the-moment decision Laura made while I was busy wrapping up some Saturday morning errands. Since we are planning a longer camping trip later this month at Rangely State Park, Laura suggested we should take a trial run at camping in order to check out the “equipment.”

So, I spend the next two hours packing up the Jeep, which includes taking down the kids’ tent that I put up in the yard. Laura makes a “quick” run to her parents’ house so that we can borrow a lantern. I am alone with the boys, who are very excited and very eager to help pack, and they offer plenty of suggestions about what we need to bring. I load the sleeping bags, the tents, the bug spray, the lawn chairs, the tarp, the kids’ water toys and a cooler that weighs roughly 300 pounds, not including the ice we still have to buy.

As a finishing touch, I strap the canoe on the roof rack and squeeze the paddles over the pillows, blankets and cookware. And we’re off. Two vehicles, two kids and more “stuff” than the Allied Forces needed in Germany.

While driving to the campground, my eyes catch a glimpse of gathering clouds on the horizon. If there is ever a drought, simply ask Randy Seaver to plan a camping trip. There’s no better way to ensure a steady downpour.

We arrive at our site at approximately 3:30 p.m. “Let’s set up camp,” Laura proclaims. Unpacking moves a little more quickly until we realize that we don’t have enough stakes to set up the “main tent.” Matthew begins to cry. We forgot to bring a “floatie.” Tim meets a friend at the campground. He wants to know if he can visit her family’s site so that he can watch a video.

We picked a campground close to home, so I offer to drive back, get the “floatie” and check on our dogs. Roughly 90 minutes later, I return to the site. Matthew doesn’t want to go into the water now. Laura wonders what we will have for dinner. We planned on steaks but there is no grate for the fire. So we have approximately 250 pounds of snacks and salad stuff, but nothing for dinner. I still have yet to eat lunch. “Kentucky Fried Chicken sounds good,” Laura suggests.

I’m back in the Jeep with Matthew. Remember, Tim is busy watching a video. I tell Laura to keep an eye on the raging inferno that I built as a campfire. The mosquitoes seem to enjoy our brand of bug repellent.

The line at Kentucky Fried Chicken circles around the parking lot. We wait 35 minutes only to be told, upon finally reaching the counter, they are out of extra crispy chicken. “I don’t care, just fry something and put in a bucket,” I bark. A “quick” stop at Hannaford for some “adult beverages” consumes another 22 minutes as I wait in the “express” line behind a woman who wants to cash a check from Neptune with no identification.

Summer traffic on Rte. One is a nightmare. Bumper-to-bumper and Matt tells me he needs a bathroom. “I have to go real bad,” he says, grimacing in the backseat.

I return to the campsite at 7:50 p.m. It’s getting dark. Tim tells me he is hungry. Apparently, watching a video in a R.V. is a physically draining experience. Laura notes that we forgot the marshmallows and graham crackers. The kids fight over who gets to use a particular stick. I trek a half-mile to the convenient camp store, where I use a strained Visa card to buy a dusty bag of marshmallows.

Finally, the kids are asleep. Peace and quiet and the great outdoors. I crack open a bottle, and Laura yawns from the comfort of her camp chair. “Goodnight,” she says, kissing me on the forehead. The fire needs to be extinguished by 10:30 p.m. The flames are three feet high. I look around and spot an empty, 16-ounce Mountain Dew bottle. Our lantern doesn’t work.

It takes me only 38 trips back and forth to the campground’s water spigot (located 350 yards from our site) to put out the fire. I finally enter our tent and lie down, exhausted. It is so quiet and peaceful that I can clearly make out the sound of air slowly seeping from the air mattress. I decide to ignore this latest development. And then, the rain starts and a clasp of thunder wakes the boys.

“Welcome to Maine,” I sigh. “The way life should be.”